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Sunday, January 31, 2016

Valentine's Day is a
day for love, especially romantic love. The day can be tricky for new couples,
trying to feel out each other's expectations. I've
known of pragmatic, completely unsentimental women who feel cheated at anything
less than a romantic campaign worthy of Napoleon, including flowers, candy,
expensive dinners, and jewelry. Worse, from their boyfriend's point of view, they expect to be surprised. Some romantics are thrilled to tears over a simple card.
Still others refuse to let the calendar dictate the level of romance in their
lives, and find the whole idea pushy and annoying. Seldom are both halves of a
new couple in the same camp.

Valentine’s is easier
for those of us lucky enough to have been married forever. I can’t speak for
other long-married couples, but our celebration is
usually low-key. I'll probably make something special for dinner, with a decedent
dessert most likely involving dark chocolate. We'll exchange cards and small
gifts, maybe watch a cute movie on television, and go from there.

But this
year, we're
doing something new for the season. (Did you know there was a Valentine’s
season?) My husband decided that, instead of taking down the Christmas tree, we
should just change the theme and make it a Valentine's tree. I don't think it's
that he loves hearts and flowers as much as it is that he hates to see the tree
come down. We must not be the only ones doing this, because I found pretty heart ornaments at Hobby Lobby and tinsel garlands and red roses in a dollar store. We also picked up a package of foam hearts and made a
garland of family photos.

It was fun
to decorate, and a nice way to get over the after-Christmas blahs. Most importantly, it makes us smile, and I think making your loved one smile is what love is all about.

1. Green or yellow walls - Check. Not bright yellow, but I think that brownish yellow counts. It's actually yellower than it looks in the photo.

2. Fresh flowers - Not at the moment, although I'm a big fan and I'm sure I'll be bringing home a primrose or bunch of daffodils soon. In the meantime, I have fake ones, as well as a pretty floral pattern on the shower curtain. Does that count?

3. and 4. Sentimental photos and vanilla candles - Check.

5. A journal - That would be this blog, and I agree that reading over old posts and comments does make me happy.

6. Furry friends - Check. She's definitely a day-brightener, even if she does think squeaky toys exist only for the purpose of being dissected and destroyed.

7. Floral scents - Nope. Not a fan of heavy scents in general. However I do have a pinon pine just outside the window that smells wonderful after a rain, and it certainly makes me happy.

8. A made bed - Yes, I agree. I do feel better when the bed is made.

9. Lack of clutter - Not so much. I'm getting better, and some areas of the house are pretty good, but the desk area isn't one of them. Maybe someday I'll get it all organized.

One happiness trigger they left out, maybe because it's out of our control, is sunshine. Early this month we temporarily relocated from Alaska to Arizona, and nothing brightens my day like a pool of sunshine creeping across the living room floor, especially after a month of darkness. By the time we return in March, the sun will be back in Anchorage,too, and the bulbs will be starting to wake up under the snow. Maybe that's why yellow walls cheer us up; they remind us of sunshine. How do these things affect you? Does it matter to your happiness whether your walls are yellow or gray, or if your bed is made? Are fresh flowers a waste of money or a necessity? What do you think?

Sunday, January 17, 2016

This is a sampler my husband’s ninety-eight-year-old
grandmother made us for Christmas. Isn’t it pretty? I loved it as soon as we
unwrapped it, but it took a little while before the message sunk in.

I've made some vague attempts to eat better and exercise, but I’m more than two weeks late with official New Year’s resolutions.
(Confession: Stop procrastinating may have been a former year’s resolution, but
that’s water under the bridge.) Anyway, I read a New Year’s blog talking about
picking a word for the year instead of making resolutions. I’d been playing with
the idea but no particular word had yet resonated with me. Then I walked by the
sampler and realized the lesson I need is right there in front of me.

It really is the small things. For example, I love my
husband. I love him enough that I’d give him a kidney, take care of him if her
were very ill, even die for him. But do I love him enough to really listen when he explains every
detail of some project he’s planning? Or to remember to screw the top tight on
the pickle jar because he picks up jars by the lids? Or to serve Brussels
sprouts with the pork chops because he likes them, even though I’d rather have spinach? Life
has a few big moments, but mostly it’s made up of small things.

I can apply this lesson every day, and not just with my
husband. I can check in with my mother more often and send little messages to
my brothers and sister and kids so they know I’m thinking of them. I can let
the mom with the fussy baby go ahead of me in the checkout line, and be patient
with the man blocking the grocery store aisle. I can smile more.

The funny thing is that, in general, these little sacrifices
don’t cost me much, but they make people happy. And making people happy makes
me happy. So that’s my motto for the year. I’m sure I’ll slip up and be
impatient, distracted, or selfish sometimes, but I’m going to try to show more
love in the small things. That’s my plan for 2016.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

A neighbor of mine has an ongoing problem. He lives on a
curve at the end of a long straightway, and when the road gets icy, at least
one car will inevitably take the corner too fast and slide. As a result, he’s
been through a lot of mailboxes.

He tried bigger, sturdier posts, but they were still no
match for a two-ton truck sliding on the ice. At least once every winter the
mailbox would go, and he’d have to prop up the broken pole in a bucket and wait
until the ground thawed to try again.

Finally, he hit upon the solution: bend instead of break. He
rigged up this sawhorse support for his mailbox. When a car sends it flying, he
simply has to unfold it, anchor it with a couple of big rocks, and set it up again. Genius.

This time of year, I tend to make these promises to myself
to lose weight, get organized, and be more productive everyday, and yet somehow, it doesn’t happen. Something comes sliding in off the ice and wipes out my good
intentions. This year, I’m trying to think of resolutions like my neighbor’s
mailbox support; they’re not broken, just knocked over. Pick them up, fold out
the legs, and carry on.